The Brightest Night
by W.E.B.P
Summary: It all happened so suddenly and I had no idea what to expect. Mott told me not to worry, but how could I not? Imogen was screaming in pain just down the hall and I could do nothing to help her. I wished having an heir to the throne could be more certain and less frightening. (A series of oneshots about Imogen and Jaron's daughter)
1. Chapter 1

**CAUTION:** If you haven't read The Shadow Throne, you might want to do that before reading this. It has spoilers!

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It was late. I was pacing the floor of my office rapidly. How was she? Was she alright? Another scream erupted from down the hall and I charged the vigil who was stationed by the door.

"I've had enough of this. Let me see her!" The vigil would not let me pass and that only infuriated me more. "She is my wife and I am your king! I order you to let me pass!" I shouted again. Still, the vigil wouldn't move. I cursed the vigil's mother for having a boar of a child, which he did not seem to appreciate.

A gentle hand was placed on my arm and Mott stood next to me with an amused look on his face. "Jaron, she'll be fine. The nursemaids promised that they will get you when it was all done."

I brushed his hand off my arm, "No, Mott, she's not fine. She's screaming in pain!"

"She's having a child. Relax."

After Imogen and I had married, it was clear everyone expected an heir to the throne as soon as possible. We, however, took our sweet time and didn't really try for a baby until after our 18th birthdays. Honestly, how could I raise a child if I still saw myself as one?

From the back of my office, Tobias hung by the window sill and asked, "Was I this paranoid when Amarinda had William?"

Mott turned around and nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, that's not fair. I am not as bad as Tobias was." I said while turning back to glare at them.

Mott chuckled, "Okay, you aren't, but it's getting close."

Tobias and Amarinda did not wait to have children and shortly after they were married, they were expecting a baby boy. William was loved by all and especially by his parents. It's hard to have a single conversation with Tobias or Amarinda without them mentioning something new he has done or something cute they adore about the boy. As much as it annoys me, I probably won't be much different when my own child arrives.

When Imogen first told me she was pregnant, I had no idea what to feel. Of course, I was thrilled and had fun telling everyone the news, but in the back of my mind I was afraid.

I could see how foolish it was to think that way. How could one be afraid of an unborn baby? But here I was, every night thinking about what kind of a father I would be. Every day watching the baby grow and as he or she did, my anxiety grew with it. Imogen could sense my fear and tried to comfort me by saying that my kingdom loved me, why couldn't my own child? Although her efforts were valiant, they were in vain. Just look at my own father! I hated him for most of life and now I was becoming one. What if my child hated me as much as I hated my father? I mean, there was a chance of redemption; I could be a father like Harlowe.

Harlowe: my prime regent and more of a father to me than my actual one had been. When he first heard the news, he could not have been happier. His face grew bright as a giant smile spread across his cheeks and he gave me a tight embrace with a heart filled congratulations. I wish I had woken him up to wait with us, but I knew he needed the rest.

Another chorus of screams echoed down the halls and Mott had me sit down to help me relax.

I couldn't tell if I was being tortured or Imogen. Obviously, she was going through a lot more pain than myself, but if I could only tell the nursemaids all of our country's secrets then maybe Imogen wouldn't have to go through labor.

Finally, I could not take it any longer. My wife needed me and I was going to be there for her. Just as I escaped Mott's grasp, charged the door vigil and pushed him out of way, a nursemaid appeared. She beamed at me as the news spilled from her mouth, "The new princess has arrived, Your Majesty. Congratulations."

There was a cheer from somewhere behind me coming from Mott and Tobias, but I couldn't hear them as I sprinted down the hall way. The nursemaid called after me. Something about how the queen wasn't decent, as if that thought should deter me from entering. I think I've seen my pregnant wife naked before.

As I approached, I heard a new sound coming from the bedroom. A sound that made my heart beat faster and harder in my chest. The sound of a baby's cry. I had only just got my right foot inside door when the head nurse started to push me out again.

"Wait," a soft voice came from the mound of crumpled bed sheets. Imogen was sweaty and looked exhausted, but she was still the most beautiful face I had ever encountered and, might I add, completely decent. In her arms was a small bundle where the cry came. "Let him in."

As much as it annoyed the head nurse, she let me in anyway. I took slow steps towards my wife and our daughter. I could hear my heart beat in my ears, my hands were shaking, I was more nervous than if I had rode into battle with nothing but my bare hands to defend myself.

I came to the bed's side and stole a glance of my daughter. Immediately a new feeling of love filled my entire body. I couldn't contain my love for this little creature and tears spilled from my eyes.

"She's beautiful," I mumble as I stare down at my weeping child. "How could the saints part with an angel so precious?"

Imogen smiled softly and asked if I would like to hold her. A feeling of fear filled my heart, "Hold her? What if I drop her?"

"You have carried swords heavier than her and you wouldn't drop them."

"Should I hold our daughter like a sword then?"

That made Imogen laugh and I was glad to hear it after hearing nothing, but screams and moans from her all night. "Hold out your arms."

I did as I was told and Imogen carefully placed the baby in my arms. "You're right," I said as I held our angel close to me. "She does weigh less than a sword."

Never in my life had I felt such a greater love. Yes, I loved Imogen more than myself, but this was different. I would have gone to the gates of the devils and back for my daughter. I would have defeated countries and burned entire cities to protect her. No one was going to hurt my daughter and I would ensure that they didn't.

I played with the tuft of dark hair on top of her head as she finally finished weeping. I had hoped she would look more like her mother, but it was clear my hoping had failed. She looked like a little me. That would worry the regents I'm sure. Having one of me was enough to make anyone crazy, but two? The country could only hope that she had her mother's personality.

"She needs a name," Imogen said while resting her head on my shoulder.

I smiled softly and wiped the tears off my cheeks, "I would like her to have my mother's name, Erin. What was the name you liked so much?"

"Isabella."

"Erin Isabella?"

Imogen shook her head as she brushed the baby's hair with the gentle fingers of a new mother, "I was hoping Isabella would be her first name. I wanted her to have name without so much history."

I wasn't about to deny my lovely wife that small request. With a gentle kiss to Imogen's head, I stood and walked out into the hallway with my daughter still secure in my arms. A few vigils had appeared, awaiting to announce the name of the new royal.

"Please present her name as Princess Isabella Erin Eckbert II." The vigils bowed their heads then ran to give the announcement.

I had no idea if my parenting would be good or not, but in that moment I wanted nothing more than my daughter's happiness and safety. I guess if that's all I ever wanted, how bad of a father could I be?

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That was my one shot! I might write more like these, but we'll have to see. I tried to capture everyones different personalities and I think I did a pretty good job. Thanks for reading!


	2. Riding Fury

**Riding Fury**

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"Isabella!" I call as my seven year old rode off on her horse.

We were only practicing. She doesn't like the actual horse trainer and would not step one foot near any pony until I came and rode with her. I would have objected, but she gave me that look. The look were her eyes become big and shiny and her bottom lip trembles a bit; all I can say is that I'm a sucker for my daughter.

What a joy it is to have children.

I quickly rode after her, "Isabella Erin, come back!"

As I got closer, I could hear her giggles. I couldn't tell if she was laughing at me or just enjoying her time, probably both. Her long, dark brown hair waved behind her and her emerald green eyes laughed joyously as she rode on Fury towards the edge of our castle grounds.

I know what you're thinking: Why let a seven year old ride a horse named Fury? This was the only horse she would get near, saying something to the extent that his coat was a pretty shade of gray. It's a ridiculous relationship to be sure, but if it gets my daughter to ride side saddle I would let her ride an elephant.

I reach desperately for my daughter and snatched her off the back of the wild horse. Fury rode off to a nice patch of grass and flowers while my own horse slowed to a stop.

"Isabella what is the matter with you?" I scold as I place her in front of me. "You know not to ride off and especially not that quickly. Fury could have bucked you off and you would have gotten hurt!"

Isabella smiled brightly up at me as she said, "That was a lot of fun! How fast do you think I was going?"

"Didn't you hear me? You could have gotten hurt!"

Isabella's expression changed from pure exhilaration and freedom to utter disappointment and regret, "I'm sorry, Father."

I hated shouting at my princess. She was a child and only wanted to enjoy life. I was exactly like her when I was young and I never got the chance to do what most children get their entire lives. At least, not without someone scolding me for it later. And she's not even setting the throne room on fire or sticking frogs in the pants of regents.

With a sigh, I smooth her hair and kiss her forehead, "Next time you wish to go that fast, we will go together, alright?"

Isabella's bright smile returned to her face and she threw her arms around my neck, "Oh thank you, Father! Can we go now?"

A grin appeared on my face; I liked the idea of riding faster than a trot. I tighten my grip on the reins and say, "You might want to hold on tighter." I lead the horse forward to a trot and Isabella's arms wrap more firm around my neck.

From the trot, I lead the horse faster and faster until we were at a full sprint down the yard. Isabella's cheers echoed in my ears as we rode off the castle grounds.

I hadn't gone riding like that in years and it felt so good to have the wind whipping at my face, to smell clean and crisp air of a summer evening and to hear my daughter's laughter while feeling the smile on her cheeks press against mine as we rode.

After five minutes of sprinting, I slowed the horse and turned him around back to the castle. Mystic, the magnificent creature I rode during the war, was old and I didn't take him out very often any more. The horse we rode now was his son, Praveer, and he was just as loyal and strong as his father.

As we approached the castle, I could see Imogen waiting for us. In her arms was our three year old son, Cole.

Cole Darius Eckbert was born a month before his due date. Most physicians said he wouldn't survive to be two weeks. Yet, every day he woke up stronger than the day before. By the time he was a year old, he was walking and eating anything he could get his little hands on. Granted, he much smaller than most boys his age, he's also much stronger than them. I couldn't be more proud.

"Wow, you must have had fun," Imogen said as she looked at our wind swept hair and red cheeks.

"It was so much fun!" Isabella cheered as I helped her from Praveer. "We went super fast and I saw a hawk circling in the sky and the gardeners looked really surprised when we passed them…" she then started giggling at the memory of the gardeners, "Their faces…"

Imogen grinned, "I'm very glad, but it's time to get ready for dinner."

Isabella obeyed her mother and was about to go off with the serving maids to get cleaned up when she turned around and hugged my waist. "Thank you, Father," she said as she squeezed me between her arms.

My heart melted and I hugged her back, "You're very welcome, angel."

She was my angel and as I held her close to me, I was so thankful I had gone riding with her. She was growing up so fast and who knows how many more moments like this I would get.

As my daughter skipped away, I smiled at Imogen who smiled knowingly back at me. She took my hand before saying, "You need to get ready for dinner too. You smell like a horse."

I scoff and roll my eyes, "Thanks, dear, I'll get right on that."

She laughed, kissed my cheek then walked away with little Cole still secure in her arms. Reagan waved goodbye to me and in that moment, I couldn't be more grateful for my family.


	3. Scaling Walls

Another boring day with nothing to do, but bicker with my regents about the position of the new church for Dryliad.

"But wouldn't having it in the town square be too flashy?" One of my regents asked from the end of the table.

I shook my head in return, "It would be very symbolic of how dedicated to our religion we are."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harlowe grin. He and I both knew that I hadn't been to church in several years. This new church wasn't just about the building. The real reason I wanted a new church was so I could dedicate it to the pastor who took me in so many years ago.

When I thought of my childhood, it felt like a dream. How could any of it be real? It was too harsh for any child to bare and that's why I had to grow up so quickly.

My childhood was unfair and unkind to me and for that reason I let my children take advantage of their youth. I wanted them to have fond memories of playing in the garden or of day dreaming in their room. Sometimes, Imogen rebukes me for the children having such a loose leash, but I can't help it. They knew exactly how to push my buttons until they got what they wanted.

Their favorite thing to pry from me was stories of my past. I loved watching their eyes light up with each word and hearing their gasps of horror or their cheers of victory. Their favorite story was when I fought the pirate king with a broken leg. To be perfectly honest, I might have tweaked the story to be more in my favor, but they didn't need to know that and Roden didn't either. Imogen had warned me several times not to tell such colorful and detail stories of our youth, but one or two tales could not hurt.

Just then, the large, oak door creaked open and who was to appear, but Cole, my youngest child and only son. He had tears in his eyes and a bruise on his cheek, "Father…"

I quickly stand from my chair and run to my son, sweeping him up in my arms and holding him close, "Cole, what has happened?" I asked while completely forgetting the regents. He was hurt and crying and I would find the reason and fix it at any means necessary. Even if that meant taking on a pack of wild dogs or moving a mountain.

Cole was hesitant to reply, but as I watched tears roll from his cheeks my five year old cried, "I was climbing the wall and fell."

"Why were you on the wall?"

Cole wiped his eyes and mumbled, "Isabella and I wanted to be like you in all your stories."

I suddenly realized why Imogen constantly warned me not to tell my stories. "Well, you look fine. Only a bruise. Where is Isabella? "

Mott was the next to enter. I never had to ask him to watch the children because he always made it his first priority to keep an eye on the royal family. Or at least that's what he told everyone. Sometimes I thought he actually enjoyed watching the little ones. "Sire, I'm sorry for the intrusion. Isabella has broken her arm. She's in the infirmary."

My eyes widened, I thrust Cole into Mott's highly capable arms and run to my daughter.

As I run down the halls, I feel like a complete fool. I had placed my children in danger. Imogen was right; I should have kept the stories less exciting. Oh dear… Imogen. The devils must be whispering to her of what my punishment should consist of now.

As I enter the infirmary, I can hear Isabella bawling from her injury though I cannot see the damage yet. A white curtain was surrounding her bed, keeping it from view. Imogen stood just outside the curtain peeking in at our daughter.

My beautiful wife had her long, dark, wavy hair sprawled down her back over a light blue, chiffon dress. The long sleeves were tight around her slender arms and there was a ribbon just below her bust. The rest of the dress fell straight to the floor like a waterfall of light blue fabric. I almost forgot that my daughter was in horrible pain while I walked towards Imogen. Of course, Imogen would not let me forget so easily.

As soon as I was close enough for my wife to whisper her reprimands, I was getting an ear full.

"Did I not tell you to keep your stories calm? How could you go against me on this? Of course our daughter would want to do exactly as her hero. If she was a little older she would be marching into the camps of pirates and you know she would."

With a solemn sigh, I nod in agreeance, "You're right. I should have been more careful. I just wanted them to have some adventure in their lives. It can be boring to be constantly sitting still and being quiet."

Imogen didn't care for my answer much and said, "Is this any better? Our daughter crying in pain because she fell from the second story."

"She made it to the second story?" Imogen gave me a warning look and I quickly corrected what I had said. "Isabella was foolish for doing such a thing. She should have known better." Though, I can't be too hard on her. I scaled walls of buildings when I was her age and, yes, I did fall once or twice. Never had I broken anything, but it still hurt.

The physician walked out from behind the curtain and bowed his head in respect before speaking, "Your majesties, the princess will be just fine. Her arm is broken, but we have corrected the bone and casted it."

Imogen went into see Isabella as two nursemaids came out. I stayed behind to ask a few more questions to the doctor. The questions consisted of 'where,' 'how long,' 'how much,' and so on. Once my overly worried parent brain was put at peace, I went in to see my angel.

Isabella was paler than usual, sweat dotted her forehead and her left arm was bandaged tightly and resting over her stomach. I smiled weakly at her and sat next to Imogen who was petting Isabella's hair.

"I am sorry," the girl said softly. "I was trying to make it to my room. I thought I could…"

With a silent nod and a kiss on her cheek, I replied, "Everything is fine, Isabella."

Imogen cut in, "But if you do it again, everything will not be fine and you will be punished. For now, I think a broken arm is punishment enough." She continued to pet her daughter's hair in a comforting way only mothers knew how to accomplish.

Isabella huffed, "I can't even skip studies…"

I laughed, "You should have landed on your right arm."

Imogen gave me a look that told me to stop, but I saw the underline of amusement in her eyes. "I think right now, the best thing for you is rest," Imogen said, turning her attention back to Isabella.

"What about sword practice?" Isabella asked with big eyes. "I am right handed after all. I could-"

I was shaking my head before she could finish the sentence. Imogen said, "You could still hurt your arm. No sword fighting until it is completely healed."

Isabella had taken up sword fighting the year before. Imogen and I were hesitant at first since fighting was for boys. It was after I saw her raw talent with Mott that I knew I couldn't keep a sword out of that girl's hand. It took more time to convince Imogen, but she soon relented.

Isabella was quite the adventurous soul and didn't care much what other people thought of her. That side of her was difficult to deal with. Especially if there were visiting dignitaries and she was still wearing her play clothes or scarfing down her dinner as if we hadn't fed her in weeks. It always seemed as though she did things like that on purpose.

On the other hand, Isabella always stood up for those in need and protected them and, much like her mother, was very intelligent. The more I watched her grow the more proud I became. Soon enough, my little angel wouldn't need me and as excited I was for that day to come, I was also sad to give her up.

Why was I worrying about that now though? She was nine. I still had plenty of time with her and I was going to spend that time wisely.

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**In this chapter, I changed Jaron's son's name to Cole. His name before was Reagan which means 'Little King' and I thought that was adorable. I then remembered Cregan from book one and I would think Jaron and Imogen would stay away from any name like that. And so Reagan is now Cole which means "Victory of the People." I like that just as much because there was a time when Cole was first born that no one knew if he would live or not, but he did and that must have been a victory for sure.**

**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**ALMOST FORGOT! Special thanks to Queen Angie the Unusual for inspiration for this chapter. Your idea about Jaron telling stories to his kids was awesome!**

**Question: What would you say if a princess decided she wanted to sword fight instead of learning to paint or sing?**


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